Chapter Text
Michael had only ever dreamt about New York City. The Empire State Building. The Met. Broadway. He never thought the circumstances that brought him to the city would be so dire. With his mother’s death, Michael and his brother Sam were forced to move into the one bedroom apartment their grandfather had left them in his will. They had no family, no friends, no connections. But Michael had a dream. A secret dream, for now, but a dream nonetheless. How hard could it be, now that he was finally in the city, to become an actor?
Sam had done nothing but complain since they arrived. Both the boys were struggling, but Michael had more of a quiet, sulking attitude about the whole situation. Sam wouldn’t shut up. Not about the smell, or the weather, or even the view of a dirty brick wall from their window.
Michael finally exclaimed, “If I let you put up whatever posters you want, will you stop complaining?”
Sam’s head perked up immediately, “even Rob Lowe?”
Michael couldn’t understand his brother’s obsession with the actor, sure he had great abs and a nice face but he wasn’t anything special, still, he conceded, “even Rob Lowe.”
That distracted Sam for a little, as he unpacked his posters and a collection of comic books larger than Michael’s collection of actual books.
“Mike, where’s the TV?” Sam’s voice carried across the small apartment.
“We can’t afford a TV Sam, you know that, " Michael replied begrudgingly, walking over to the bedroom they would have to share.
“Seriously Mike? I thought you were joking. You know what no TV means, right? No MTV!”
Michael sighed, knowing he would regret what he was about to say, “how about this Sam, give me a week to get a job and get us on our feet, after that, I will think about getting a TV,”
Sam began to thank Michael, but he was interrupted, “but, you have to try at school. No daydreaming about comic books and superheroes, you have to focus.”
Sam didn’t reply, but the bear hug Michael received was answer enough.
As soon as Michael got Sam in bed, he headed out. What he had said to Sam was true, he needed a job before the week was through or the boys wouldn’t have any food to eat, not even considering the TV Michael had promised his brother. The cold, wet streets of New York were nothing like the Phoenix the boys had called home not even a day earlier. Michael turned his collar up as he walked, his mind drifting away from his goal and into the New York of his mind. Glittering lights, loud music, and performances that swept you out of the real world and into the safe world of a fantasy. That was the New York Michael was searching for. Instead, he found desolation, crumbling buildings and wayward souls– like himself. But Michael had a dream, one day he would help people clear their minds of this dreary landscape, he would know what it was like to hear rapturous applause after a heartfelt ballad, or rousing laughter after a well-timed joke. Michael shook his head. He couldn’t get swept up in his dreams of grandeur. To achieve his real goal, he would have to take it one step at a time– which meant finding a job.
This goal proved harder than Michael assumed. Barely any storefronts had help wanted signs outside, and those that did took one look at Michael and turned him away. Before he knew it, Michael had walked for nearly two hours. Stopping to catch his breath, he realized where he was. He could see the Minskoff Theatre, and walking beyond it the Magestic, the Martin Beck, even further, beyond where his eye could see, lie the Broadway and the Vivian Beaumont. This was the New York he had dreamed about, beyond the mess of Times Square and the seedy underbelly he had resigned himself to. The bright marquees reignited the flame of hope inside him that he had thought burned away forever. Michael stood gawking at the signs for what seemed like ages, and when he checked his watch it was nearly 2 in the morning. “I can look for a job tomorrow,” he thought to himself, “if I stay up any longer I won’t be able to walk Sam to school.” Taking one last look at the shining lights and Broadway street sign, Michael returned to his new “home”.
The walk would have been uneventful– Michael was still ruminating on how he would make it to Broadway for real– except for the sight of a diner he had missed on his way uptown. In a stroke of luck– or perhaps fate– a girl was putting up a help wanted sign in the window only a few blocks away from his apartment. The girl’s appearance was striking, she had long brown hair, but the ends were dyed a fiery red and although her shirt was a simple white tee with the words “Moonbeam Diner” across the front, her skirt was a shimmery purple that had the appearance of a witch casting a spell, drawing Michael in.
He approached her, “Hey uh, you lookin’ for a new waiter? I just got into town and I saw your sign.”
She smiled, “Well, perfect timing, we’re looking for a new night waiter, what’s your name?”
“Michael”.
“I’m Star.”
Michael thought that was a strange name, but remembering that his mom almost named him Moonchild, Star didn’t seem half bad.
She continued, "I can give you the paperwork right now, just bring it back tomorrow anytime, I'll get you all set, okay?”
Michael couldn’t believe his luck. Star went to go get him the paperwork, so Michael had a chance to look around. At the bar, there were some workers drinking coffee, whether they had just gotten off or were about to start was anyone’s guess. There were construction workers and even some confused looking tourists– although at this point Michael was basically a tourist– muttering about a “Moondance Diner”. But it was a table near the other end of the diner that caught Michael’s eye. There were four guys– probably around Michael’s age– talking loudly, but none of their conversation carried over to where Michael was standing. They looked like they were in a band, they were dressed up all punk-rock and the one with long, curly blond hair was twirling drumsticks as he talked. It was the quieter guy that Michael noticed. He has platinum blond hair and even when he laughed his smile never quite reached his eyes. Michael realized he was probably staring, but he couldn’t turn away. As soon as Michael realized this, the man turned his way, as if hearing his thoughts. Michael prepared to get yelled at, or at the very least a stern head-shake. Instead, the guy smiled and gave a small wave.
Michael was about to wave back when Star appeared next to him, “You know, it's not polite to stare.”
Michael jumped, “I wasn’t–” in an attempt to prove to Star that he in fact, wasn’t not staring, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, but in the process he tripped over his shoelaces and barely managed to avoid falling. When he looked up, Star did not seem amused, but thankfully the man hadn’t noticed his epic failure, “--I wasn’t staring.”
“Right,” if Star could have killed Michael with her glare, she would have in that moment, “here’s the paperwork. I have to get back to work, if you can get these filled out by tomorrow you can start immediately.”
She began to walk away but Michael grabbed her arm, “You don’t understand how helpful this is. And I uh… wasn’t staring but, d’you know his name?”
She sighed and glared at him again, “His name is David and if you have any sense you’ll stay away from him.”
She wished him goodbye kurtly, practically shooing him out of the diner. When Michael got home, he was happy to see Sam was still asleep.
Sam’s new school started early, Michael had barely fallen asleep when the alarm to begin the day rang. He sleepily shook his brother awake, “c’mon Sammy, time to get up.” The boys got ready quickly– Michael in a cropped The Doors t-shirt and Sam in a colorful button-up that would have been more at home in a pre-school classroom.
When the brothers were ready to leave, they turned to eachother and in unison said, “that is the stupidest shirt I have ever seen.”
As they walked out of the building, Michael lectured Sam. Pay attention in class. Don’t talk to anyone on the street. Don’t get robbed. Be nice to your teachers. Make friends. As if it was that easy. Sam had gotten used to his brother’s sulking attitude, so the onslaught of warnings was overwhelming. As soon as they got in sight of the school, Sam walked faster so he could escape Michael’s suffocating presence.
“Now hold on Sam. I should probably walk you in, you gotta talk to the secretary to get your schedule.. I have the letter right here–”
Sam cut him off by grabbing the letter, exclaiming, "I'm sure I can find it myself Mike!”
“Okay Sammy, you remember how we got here? Or maybe I should come pick you up so you don’t get lost–”
Once again, Sam cut him off, ‘“quit worrying, i’m fine. Bye Mike,” and he ran off into the school.
Michael sighed, watching as his brother entered, before walking back to their apartment. He figured he could get a few hours of sleep before heading back to the diner to start working.
Inside the school, Sam easily found his way to the secretary and then his homeroom. The teacher seemed nice, but the class was rowdy. When he came in, she called up two boys to help guide him around the room, since they had similar schedules.
“These are Edgar and Alan, the Frog brothers.”
The brothers seemed unamused at having to guide Sam around, but when he sat down and started reading a comic– The Uncanny X-Men #120– the boys got excited.
“You like comics? Have you ever read this one?” he asked, sliding a copy of Vampires Everywhere across Sam’s desk.
Sam laughed, but he could tell that he and the brothers were going to be good friends.